


Fluffy Socks

by BazookaMelon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9984494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazookaMelon/pseuds/BazookaMelon
Summary: Wakey Wakey, Eggs and Bakey





	

“Dude!” He’d yelled only moments ago as he got an armful of his man. “What are you doing?” He’d asked with a chuckle breaking through his shocked voice, looking the mess in front of him up and down. He had a bad case of the bed head, and was still wearing his pyjamas, and a pair of the fluffiest socks he’d ever seen.  
“I saw it on TV – I wanted to try it.” Cas’d said, grinning up at him. “Sliding on the floor – it’s kind of hard though.” He said, his face having gone serious again. “As you can see, I do not have very good aim yet.” Cas had stood up straight, nodding once. Dean’s arms were still loosely wrapped around him, making it impossible for Cas to leave – only because he didn’t want to, though.  
Dean smirked, tilting his head. “Yeah, your aim’s a little off.” He said, pulling Cas against him. “But hey, who’s keeping track, right?” He’d said, his head crooned into Cas’s neck. Cas shivered as he felt Dean’s jaw rub against his neck and Dean’s breath run down his back. “You cold?” Dean asked, knowing full-well he wasn’t. “I could always warm you up.”  
Cas let out a shaky breath, glancing over at Dean. He still wasn’t used to this closeness, to the affection he constantly received from Dean. He willingly accepted it, of course; he wanted it. He’d craved it, and finally receiving it…

Dean’s lips had pressed to his neck gently at first, placing small kisses just under Cas’s jawline. Cas had never felt such affection from anyone before – he thought he’d felt it before, but he was proved wrong. Dean’s hands were firmly around him, one on the small of his back to pull him in tightly, and one between his shoulder blades.  
Cas had been surrounded by the smell of cheap hotel shampoo and old whiskey – that never washed off, no matter how many times Dean showered. Dean’s hair was still damp and it tickled Cas’s cheek. There was also a vague smell of pine from their last hunt, which was a lot of running through trees and brush.  
Cas had also smelled something else in the air – breakfast, he’d thought. It smelled like eggs, mostly. He wondered why – they usually didn’t cook – they’d usually go out for breakfast with Sam and talk about their next case.

“Hey, lover boys! Breakfast.” Sam had called, peeking his head around the corner and giving Dean a somewhat disgruntled but also amused look. “If you’re not satisfied enough already.” He’d muttered, walking back into the kitchenette. “Hurry before it’s gone!” He sang, followed by the sound of plates and cutlery clinking together.  
Dean had groaned loudly, throwing his head back. He placed a quick kiss on Cas’s cheek, then let go of him to go into the kitchen. “There better be beer with this breakfast – I’m not a water kind of person.”

Cas had smiled lightly, looking down at his socks. He looked back up as Dean called him, poking his head back around the corner. “You coming?” He’d asked, and Cas nodded, following him in. Cas never would’ve guessed this would happen – it’d felt so unreal. He’d sat down next to Dean, across from Sam who smiled at him quickly before taking a bite.  
“Man, these eggs are awful. How do you screw up eggs, Sammy?” Dean choked, glancing at his brother. Sam frowned, pointing his fork at him.  
“Hey! At least we have breakfast, that I made while you were busy kissing up your boyfriend.” Sam looked at Cas quickly with an apologetic face. “Sorry they’re not great, it’s harder than it looks.”  
Cas just smiled, eating his eggs even though they weren’t the best he’d had. They were made for him, and that made them great. “Thanks, Sam.” He nodded, getting a confused look from Dean. Cas looked at him sternly.  
“Thanks, Sammy…” Dean mumbled, frowning as he took another bite followed by a swig from his can of beer. He held back a cough and nodded, giving an ingenuine smile to Sam who just laughed.

 

Cas slides the socks from his feet, getting dressed in his usual attire. Dean had taught him to dress a little more casually unless they were going in as the FBI. So, he pulls jeans and a tee shirt on, and then his trench coat around it all. Cas had questioned the trench coat, since he thought that was still a formal piece, but Dean said to leave it.  
Sam had given Dean a funny look when that was said. Like Dean was being unreasonable, or that somehow it was a joke. But Cas didn’t question it – he put the trench coat on every day and greatly enjoyed the smile he got from Dean when he did.

Dean walks in the room, his smile pulled into his cheeks widely. His eyes are bright as he looks Cas over, his hands in his pockets. “Ready?” He asks, gesturing Cas out of the room. Cas walks out ahead of him, feeling Dean’s hand run over his lower back as he did. They pile into the Impala, Cas sitting in the back to poke his head between the boys like usual.  
“Alright, let’s go.” Sam says, sighing as he shut the door behind him. Cas just smiles, looking out the front window. He’d never had a happiest day before – each day was bland, and regrettable. But now every day was his happiest day.

Today is his happiest day.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing off of prompts lately and I saw one about Cas wearing fluffy socks and sliding around and then hitting Dean, and so this work was born. Did I get carried away? Probably, but you know. Whatever. I like fluff. <3


End file.
